SIR PATRICK. Well, Mr Savior of Lives: which is it to be? that honest decent man Blenkinsop, or that rotten blackguard of an artist, eh?
RIDGEON. Its not an easy case to judge, is it? Blenkinsop’s an honest decent man; but is he any use? Dubedat’s a rotten blackguard; but he’s a genuine source of pretty and pleasant and good things.
SIR PATRICK. What will he be a source of for that poor innocent wife of his, when she finds him out?
RIDGEON. Thats true. Her life will be a hell.
SIR PATRICK. And tell me this. Suppose you had this choice put before you: either to go through life and find all the pictures bad but all the men and women good, or to go through life and find all the pictures good and all the men and women rotten. Which would you choose?
RIDGEON. Thats a devilishly difficult question, Paddy. The pictures are so agreeable, and the good people so infernally disagreeable and mischievous, that I really cant undertake to say offhand which I should prefer to do without.
SIR PATRICK. Come come! none of your cleverness with me: I’m too old for it. Blenkinsop isnt that sort of good man; and you know it.
RIDGEON. It would be simpler if Blenkinsop could paint Dubedat’s pictures.
SIR PATRICK. It would be simpler still if Dubedat had some of Blenkinsop’s honesty. The world isnt going to be made simple for you, my lad: you must take it as it is. Youve to hold the scales between Blenkinsop and Dubedat. Hold them fairly.
RIDGEON. Well, I’ll be as fair as I can. I’ll put into one scale all the pounds Dubedat has borrowed, and into the other all the half-crowns that Blenkinsop hasnt borrowed.